Broken Souls
by Circe-Baka
Summary: After the final battle to release the shadows not all went as planned for the spirits sealed in the Millennium Items.
1. Chapter 1: Breakdown

Deep below the surface of the Egyptian desert lays The Shrine of the Underword. No sunlight reached this musty dungeon which housed the ancient Millennium Stone. The Stone was shaped as that of an Egyptian priest with indentions for all seven Items to be placed. This monument was the final resting place of these golden artifacts, which shone on display all day, every day for only two pairs of eyes: maroon and bronze.

These pair of eyes belonged to two ancients, a king of an Egyptian empire and a king of lowly thieves. Bakura and Yami, recently known as Atem, had found themselves surprisingly tied to this room, their souls trapped here as they had been within the confines of the Items. With the defeat of Zorc Necrophades, Atem's final battle with Yugi and his departure to the afterlife, both Bakura and Atem had thought their attachments to the Living World were at an end.

If anything, this was a new intensity of Purgatory, a level 2 as it were. Their spirits were still fixed to their corresponding Items, but now they could move freely in the physical plane, only as far as the walls of this shrine. Almost four months had pasted since the final battle with Yugi, and both spirits were growing restless of this new arrangement.

Atem sat on the floor, musing over cards in his deck. He rebuilt his deck several times as it was all he could muster to pass the time. Without natural light, there would have been no means to see even centimeters from ones face. But there happened to be several stands of votive candles and Bakura had lit them, seeing as his shadow powers had allowed him to like the time he'd been in a church with Ryou.

The spirit of the Ring stood nearby, looking over the former Pharaoh's shoulder idly, glancing ever so often at the cards, then about the Shrine. He grimaced with a huff and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Bakura... why are you so glum all of a sudden?" Atem spoke softly. It had been days since he'd spoken, perhaps even more. Whatever concept of time the ancient spirit had built over the last years in Japan was waning fast. He began to judge time by how many times his cards had been rearranged…and even that number his old mind failed to remember. Atem shifted from a cross-legged position to legs flat against the stone, unsettled by the dark feeling from the other spirit.

Bakura growled at the question. As if the answer wasn't obvious, but Bakura hated stating obvious notions. "What is it to you, Pharaoh?" He spat, averting any eye contact he might make with the owner of the Millennium Puzzle.

Atem frowned, turning from his Duel Monsters cards to regard the thief with wary wine colored eyes. He regretted speaking in the first place, but decided he might as well say his piece. "We're stuck in this predicament ...for what may be a very long while. Is it bad of me to try and be friendly?"

One corner of Bakura's mouth twitched upward, expanding his grimace for a moment. "Only you would seek friendship in the likes of me..."

Seems this was the birth of an argument. Atem internally smiled, finally something new to pass the time, even if it might give him a headache. An elegant black eyebrow arched in confusion. "Why not? With a shared past like ours it only makes sense, does it not? We're stuck together now…why not be friends?"

The Thief King snorted with contempt for such an idea. "Don't make me laugh!" The albino bellowed, walking towards the Stone, glaring at each golden ware that met his eyes. "What we should be doing is figuring out why in creation we are again chained to these accursed things!" Lifting a shoe, he kicked at the Stone and the Millennium Scale, which he stood nearest. "Why did this backfire; why haven't we been released?!" His shadows seemed angry and released around him like an aura of energy, flickering and expanding against the walls and floors, almost exhausting the petite candle flames.

Atem exhaled with a defeated expression. His gaze wandered back to the stack of cards on the floor, remembering the last duel with his aibou. When the match was over he was to venture to the afterlife and finally be at peace. Yet somehow he and Bakura were spat back into the Living World and became prisoners yet again. "I…I don't know…" Atem answered finally.

Crossing both arms over his chest, the ancient thieving spirit grit his teeth with an audible 'ch'. There was no sense finding an answer to that question, at least not for now. They had tried time and time again, to no avail. "Pray tell why you're seeking friendship so suddenly." Bakura began, reinitiating Atem's previous request. "Like I said, only you would look for such menial things as friendship where no such thing lies."

The Pharaoh's chest huffed in a quick sigh as he stood, walking towards the other ancient. "Is that a problem? What's wrong with wanting to form new bonds?" There was little else to occupy their time…making conversation would help ease the burden if only for a short while.

Bakura's shadows finally receded, returning to their original role of following their master wherever he roamed. "Do you understand what it would mean to change our current standing?" Cold bronze met concerned maroon as both souls faced one another. "You are the hero and I am the villain. That will never change." The thief stood with feet spread and arms folded, which was his default stance.

"The world isn't black and white Bakura. You're no more evil then I am…You were possessed and had a vendetta you wanted settled. Was I not a villain to you; the child of the man that ruined your life?" He said with a frown marring his face with anger and worry.

The albino quirked an eyebrow in question. "Why are you trying to make me seem like some sort of 'good guy' in this scenario?"

"I'm not trying to do that. I'm simply saying that we were fighting for what we felt was right. There was no good or bad guy." Atem resituated his stance, straightening his spine to show that he was not backing down from this exchange.

One fair eyebrow lowered while the other remained arched, posing an unspoken question. "Believe what you will, Pharaoh," he stated with a dry tone, closing both eyes with a sigh.

The old Pharaoh made an odd motion with lips turning inwards as he stumbled for the right words to say. Suddenly sure of his next move, he reached forward and grabbed at the albino spirit's hand, grasping it firmly. "What I'm saying is I want us to start over." His eyes implored, hoping the bronze orbs were able to gauge his sincerity.

The tomb robber wore a shocked expression, eyes wide as tea saucers. There were no words or actions he could find as a correct means to reply to the other spirit. After a moment he choked out the word, "What?"

Deep reddish purple eyes searched the glacial depths as he offered up a smile that warmed his eyes. He flexed his grip on Bakura's hand, a way of confirming what he meant physically. "I want to start over; as friends."

For a moment, Bakura stared at the hand that held his own in a firm grasp. Squinting one eye smaller than the other he further emphasized his skepticism at the gesture and heaved a few snorts before erupting with laughter, releasing his hand from the grip of the other spirit.

The pale face of the Egyptian ruler contorted in shocked hurt as the hand quickly broke free from the darker spirit's.

"So now you're a comedian? How funny; that wasn't too bad, in fact. Ha!"

The stinging words baffled Atem; was he really so untrustworthy? "I'm no comedian." He said gruffly, fists clenched and carrying a slight tremor. "I mean it."

Brows furrowed in confusion. How was it possible that the Pharaoh, his sworn enemy for over 3,000 years would be not only extending the olive branch but a hand in friendship? Bakura shook his head twice; he couldn't be serious. "What is it you would gain for this? Is there some sort of wager placed on my answer? Or is it a prank? Tell me!" Hands fell to his sides, balled as he appeared ready for a physical confrontation.

Fury began to build to a slow simmer in the Game King's mind. He'd never had his own friends in this time period; everyone had been Yugi's friend, not his. They'd all become comrades because of his aibou's kind and caring heart. In all his time as a spirit the only friends he'd made for himself had been Mahado and Mana, who were now sealed away as shadow monsters. This had been his first attempt at forming a bond of his own since the times of his residency in Ancient Egypt, and his request had been swiftly shot down with a mocking laugh. "A wager? A prank?!" He snarled, hurt curling within his drying throat between each intake of breath. "There is none! You want to know my incentive at forming a bond with you, Bakura? I want to be your friend! That's all!" He hollered defiantly, his bunched shoulder sending the other spirit a smoldering expression of pain and rejection.

Bakura considering what had played out before his eyes. Atem, the Pharaoh, his enemy, seemed to be making a heartfelt request for friendship. The thief remained silent in thought, only offering a cold stare in reply. At best they were not enemies anymore...perhaps the spirit of the Ring had relinquished that status for their relationship. But they were indeed not friends, at least not mutually; try hard as the Puzzle's spirit might. "Do you honestly think that I would believe your words?" He allowed Atem to consider the question before continuing. "Trust…I have no use for such things. There is only strength and weakness, victors and losers, intellects and fools. And I am no fool, you see. I don't place faith in others but in myself. Relying on people is only a crutch..."

Atem processed Bakura's words before forming his own reply. "If you won't believe my words, then let me prove it to you, little by little. I'm not asking to become like brothers in a heartbeat. I'm asking you to give me a chance. You can watch my every movement and judge me thusly. I, at the very least, want you to know that you may do so with my full permission." His words were strained but heartfelt.

"Pharaoh you're an interesting one. Why does this mean so much to you?" He towered over the other spirit not only with stature but attitude, an air of malevolence surrounding his form. "Even if you are equipped for such relationships...what makes you think I am?" He saw question in the others face. "I am a psychotic king of mischief and thievery. I was feared by you and your court, your soldiers and towns people. What makes you think I long for friends and companionship as you do?"

Atem frowned, looking away for a moment. Why did he want this? Bakura made a point, why go from sworn enemies to friends? His need for kinship was out of desperation; thusly his words had been said on impulse. He looked towards the Tomb Robber and felt a prick of hope for companionship, someone to really understand what it had been like to be trapped for so long.

"I-" He faltered before looking back at the now slightly intrigued man who stood over him. "We share a common past."

Bakura considered the phrase and allowed the other to continue.

"In that sense we can understand one another…" The ancient king scoffed slightly in humor.

"I was never afraid of you per say, you were indeed fearsome, but I-" His brow became sever, twisting his face into a caricature of bafflement. "We never saw eye to eye, I'm sure we still won't, but it doesn't stop me from wanting to be a friend or comrade to you. I've been told to trust my gut instinct." He paused, looking back at the Thief King. "And my gut is telling me that this is what I want. There are no motives behind it other than simple companionship."

The owner of cynical brown iris' lowered his gaze, genuinely considering his fellow prisoner's words. He believed Atem, wholeheartedly in fact. In reality, there was no reason to doubt him. Having shared a soul with the innocent and simple Yugi, it wasn't hard to conceive that the squirt had rubbed off on the Egyptian king. Atem's name was synonymous with good and justice, and he was certainly far too trustworthy.

Bakura didn't need for such crutches. He had no friends, no family and no allies. The Tomb Robber possessed a list of enemies a mile long. But now, in this current predicament, he considered that Atem's name wasn't on this list any longer. Zorc Necrophades, however, was at the very top and probably underlined.

What was the Pharaoh to him? A fellow prisoner, another spirit confined by the Millennium Items, perhaps even a rival. At his core, Atem was a misguided king who knew not what the previous head had done to Kul Elna.

That day, so many years ago…Bakura had been stripped of all warmth since; family, friends, neighbors, completely wiped from the face of the Earth. From that day forward, he had been alone, and wanted for no one. Back in those days he might have accepted such honest requests for friendship. Bakura snorted, knowing he was lying to himself. He'd been trapped in a necropolis, calling out, pleading, crying and begging for anyone to come and save him from this nightmare. His weakened soul had been easy prey for Zorc, who proceeded to control him mercilessly for ages. He'd screamed, cried and begged for help then too, trapped in the cramped space of the Millennium Ring, forced to be a dark puppet. But no one came; no one came to his aid. Instead he was feared and cast as the main villain in the Pharaoh's story.

Since Bakura could remember, he'd given up, knowing he would always be alone. He shrugged once at his memories of the past and replied. "You don't seem to get it, Pharaoh. I do not want to be friends with anyone." His reply ended with arms crossing over his chest, his stance set to default.

A low growl worked it' way free from the petite pharaoh lips. He'd been trying to act civil and calm, hoping to guide Bakura to the reasoning behind his request but it was only met with vitriol. "You utter fool..." He whispered harshly, shoulders shaking in silent fury. "Have you learned nothing from what has happened between us?" His voice slowly began gathering strength, growing louder with each word.

"You lost because you were alone." Atem continued. "It's the only reason that you were defeated. You relied upon no one but your own strength and even that wasn't enough." He boomed stepping forward into the other spirits space, his eyes thunderous, shadows darkening his iris' to a deep garnet. "You saw how I was empowered when Yugi returned to me. I became strong because I had friends with me." He paused a moment to take in a breath and began again. "Don't you dare believe that friendship is for the weak and worthless…you don't know the first thing about strength! If anything one is weakest when alone; you can break one stick by itself easily, put more together and it is increasingly difficult. That is what friendship is like." He snarled out the last part like a threat. His shadows flickered, rage evident as they curled and flickered, summoned unexpectedly by their master.

The tomb robber sneered, exposing his canines as though he were a defensive animal. He could feel his blood reach a boiling point and grabbed the pharaoh by his collar. "What would you know of it?! How much have you suffered...being stuck in the puzzle and not knowing your name? Feh, such a travesty!"

Garnet eyes widened whist the Ring's spirit spoke.

"I don't need anyone, that's what you're not getting. I've always..." Bakura paused, a lump forming in his throat and he swallowed hard. I've always been alone, his mind supplied. Speaking such truths aloud felt different than when he mulled them over internally.

He swallowed once more and released the Atem's collar. "It's none of your concern..." He trailed off with a quiet, defeated tone, wrestling with what feelings had bubbles to the surface. Perhaps being possessed by Zorc had suppressed his human heart and now...he felt completely defenseless. How pathetic, he thought.

Atem felt a shiver run through his body, reminded of the long era he'd spent in the shadows. For 3,000 years he'd floated in and out of consciousness, not knowing where he was or who he'd been. All he felt was a crushing loneliness that ate at his very soul, driving him mad. He wanted to roar at the thief, who presumed that he had been better off, yet as Bakura uttered his last sentence, the Pharaoh stopped considered the altered situation. The albino appeared forlorn, resigned to the fact that he had been alone. Tentatively he reached towards the Tomb Robber. "What if I want it to be? I want to help."

"Get away from me!" Bakura snarled, his own shadows surrounding him like a barrier to keep the other soul from advancing. They reverted to cast shadows once the threat had been neutralized; Atem stood his ground, allowing Bakura to have his outburst. "How dare you act as my confidant, you pampered pharaoh! Ha, not much of a pharaoh even. You were more of a spoiled prince! Your reign was short!"

The thief sneered, "I want nothing to do with you and your misguided notions!" He huffed, attempting to clear his mind's eye of the past, but it was too late. It was as if Bakura had opened the proverbial flood gates of his memories. One nudge and everything, even moments he'd thought were long forgotten, came pouring in, flashing across his mentality. Subconsciously his fingers cloaked his lidded orbs, attempting vainly to forget. Why now? Why after 3,000 years would he remember such events? Bakura's breath hitched a moment and he sat on his knees, snaking his free arm around his abdomen to ground his shaky equilibrium.

A frown etched itself deeply into the former pharaoh's face as he stepped forward. Bakura's words stung; it was true, he'd barely ruled as pharaoh and had done even less for his people. Instead he'd sealed himself and the games away, passing the duty onto others. "I know I failed as a ruler…you're correct in that. Even so, I have learned so many things from this time period." Most importantly were lessons about companionship and trust. He knew Bakura had never known such luxuries, even if he had they'd been short lived as he was only a child when the destruction of Kul Elna had occurred.

The only thing Atem could offer was himself, someone to listen and help. The Pharaoh knelt, swiftly wrapping his arms around the other, tugging him towards his smaller frame. "I ask you to let me prove myself... now, we're all we have," he whispered tightening his embrace.

Bakura didn't know what to do. His fighting spirit was lost, pushed aside by his inner pain resurfacing from millennia past. He felt those slender arms encompass his form and somehow felt better. What a joke...his enemy attempting to comfort him. It was a sad, pitiful joke at best.

Once he relaxed into those arms, the pain began to lessen more; perhaps only a fraction, but enough that he could breathe easier. For now, he wouldn't lash out and attack the pharaoh and instead silently thanked him for the embrace. Maybe later, when Bakura felt like his old self, he would yell and lash out. Maybe later...


	2. Chapter 2: Loneliness

Bakura was acting strange.

The usually irritable albino found himself relaxed against Atem's shoulder, face pressed into the fabric of the navy jacket. It's not as if they were a pair of lovers embracing in a romantic hug. What was the Pharaoh thinking, comforting the Ring's spirit in such a way; how mortifying it had been. "Enough..." He stated quietly, sitting up straight, gently breaking his contact from the other spirit who appeared bewildered.

Maroon eyes blinked thoughtfully. Atem didn't want to offend Bakura and allowed him to extract himself from the embrace and placed his arms at his sides placidly. "I meant what I said, Bakura. I want to help you." He breathed softly, watching for even the slightest hint that the other spirit would require his assistance again.

Without another word, the former King of Thieves leaned against the wall, sitting on his rear with legs bent, hands collecting over his chest.

Atem smiled at his partner and the bronze eyes darted away. Bakura couldn't wait for the cloud of awkwardness to disperse and dared not to look anywhere near the Puzzle's spirit.

A soft chuckled escaped Atem's lips, nervously he licked them before sitting against the opposing wall. He realized there was a need for a tactical retreat. The tomb robber needed his time to collect himself; likewise, Atem would be demonstrating that he could give him space. The next move had to be made by Bakura alone. Idly he shuffled a deck of Duel Monster cards, his mind slipping away into thought.

Bakura sighed with a relaxed expression as the uncomfortable air dispersed. But something was out of place. Had the Pharaoh read his mind? It seemed too peculiar that moments after he wished for the awkward silence to change, Atem had done just that and had given him room to breathe. Bakura shook his head internally. As much as he wanted to disregard it, he was thankful for the company. But it was something he could never openly admit, nor could he live down such embarrassment.

Atem, however, was paying no mind to the thief, instead pondering their current predicament. What reason did they have to be here? Zorc was defeated, yet here they were, seemingly waiting for something that would never come to pass. What purpose would these two opposite souls serve trapped in a monument to the very items that held them captive for thousands of years? There was a small feeling in the Pharaoh's heart that told him there was indeed reason for this…but he couldn't figure it out. There were no leads, no one to ask and no clues except that Bakura and he had been trapped here. There had to be a reason; what could it possibly be?

In contrast, Bakura was exhausted from his forced remembrance. With a single yawn, his eyelids fluttered closed only for a moment until the full volume of his snoring echoed throughout the stone chamber.

The rumble of breath brought Atem out of his inner musings. He glanced towards his spirit companion briefly before doing a double take. There, plain as day was his long time enemy, sleeping against the stone wall. The Egyptian king's lips quirked upwards as he took in the sight, and then let out a small huffing laugh.

Things didn't turn out as Bakura had hoped they would.

That awkward feeling returned as soon as his eyes opened the next morning. At least he assumed it was morning. In this new purgatory sleep was a gift, a means of blissful escape from what might be an actual eternity.

The albino shifted, stretching as he awoke, looking towards the other spirit. Bronze met maroon and the tomb robber instantly felt his cheeks warm in remembrance of the hug. He found his mouth dry, tongue-tied, hoping conversation was not on the Pharaoh's mind.

Atem hadn't been graced with sleep, instead blessed with a nagging urge to search for answers. That feeling had kept him alert through most of Bakura's slumber. Months had passed, how many he was unsure. Time didn't seem to concern Atem; what mattered now was putting together information. Despite several arguments since the initiation of this new imprisonment, Bakura and he had only exchanged scant arguments. What the former Pharaoh needed was serious conversation.

Removing himself from that mental conversation, the former pharaoh smiled briefly, hoping it wouldn't aggravate his companion. "Good morning." He stated gently, voice as soft as the flickering lights of the candles that lined the room.

Instead of constructing a retort, Bakura grumbled to himself, something inaudible and straightened his wrinkled shirt, turning away from the ancient Pharaoh. This wasn't like him...acting like his own hikari, a timid, embarrassed mouse. An uneasy feeling weighed on his chest that wouldn't allow him to spew his usual venom; why, well, he didn't know. Reminded of the hug, Bakura's face colored again, and bellowed, "What's so good about it?!" in hopes of returning to his usual disposition.

Atem was caught off guard by the outburst, his eyes blinking rapidly in response. Typical Bakura; as friendly as a cactus. His mind supplied the last sentence with a yielding laugh. "It's just an expression," he calmly stated, hoping to soothe the perturbed thief.

Bakura's chest expanded before expelling a loud huff. Stupid Pharaoh, he thought, adopting a grumpy frown. He closed his eyes and collected his thoughts, changing the subject of conversation. "Have you anything worth my while to say or are we going to indulge in these idle pleasantries?"

The previous king of Egypt's eyes travelled around the dark stone chamber, then to the Millennium stone. "We've argued extensively before about this," he began. "But what are the chances of it being only us who has been excluded from returning to the afterlife?"

This was right up the thief's alley; a discussion about their current dilemma. He thoroughly considered the question before saying, "You and I were the only spirits sealed into the Items correct? Zorc and the other one with the Key don't seem to be around. Safe to say we are the only one's held here against our will."

"It would appear so," stated Atem, not looking away from the stone monument. "We haven't seen Shaadi since before the duel I had with Yuugi. Though there was nothing said about us becoming the items new guardians. I was returned to the afterlife for a small time…" He sighed, looking around the vast room. "Then I woke up here and found you."

Reddish brown eyes followed the lines between the stone tiles while he listened, considering what to say in reply. "Guardians...elaborate. You've mentioned that before but I have no idea what you're talking about."

"To my knowledge, Shaadi was the guardian of the items while we rested before our lighter sides unsealed us." The pharaoh's brow furrowed in concentration as he extracted more from his memories. "He alone was to guard them, though why we've been chosen, when the darkness has been sealed, is unknown to me. Everything should have ended when Yuugi defeated me in the duel and I returned to my rightful place."

"So what you're saying is, with the situation we're in, the only logical explanation is that we are indeed guardians of these items..." Bakura trailed off, and then nodded. The darkness had been sealed and the Millennium Items no longer possessed any owners. Without anyone to wield their power, the items were deemed inert. Was there some other purpose to the Items? Bakura was at a loss as the information he possessed was insufficient. Swallowing his pride, as he believed extracting information mutually with the Pharaoh was beneath him, he asked, "Tell me: what is the purpose of the Items?" When Atem shot him an expression of shock, he growled. "I'm not an idiot! But we need to be on the same page!"

Atem held up his hands in defense. "I was merely shocked that you wanted to breach the subject; that was all." He spoke carefully, not wanting to trigger the thief's anger as he had the previous night. Taking a breath he began, "From what I recall the items were to act as containers and amplifiers for the shadow powers. Using them that way the Pharaoh's Court would be able to protect Kehmet from invading armies easier, without the cost of the lives of its citizens." He paused, watching for any violent inclination to spark in the eyes of the sole survivor of Kul Elna.

Bakura had an excellent opportunity to erupt. Even he knew now was not the time for such childishness and there was a far more important task at hand. The fair haired spirit adopted his default position, arms crossed over his chest in contemplation and nodded to the Pharaoh. "Hmph...I was hoping for more than that, but if that is all you know, I suppose it will have to do..." He pressed the back of his thumb to his bottom lip, genuinely at a loss for what to inquire.

Standing, the once pharaoh moved swiftly across the floor to stand before the Millennium Stone. His wine colored gaze shifting from item to item, trying to see if any power lay dormant in them. "I do not have all the answers. The Shadow Games started long before our time and ran rampant for years. These items where what helped keep it in check." Eyeing the Millennium Key he probed at it with his powers, hoping to pull a reaction from the golden artifact. Perhaps he could revive Shaadi or another spirit to assist them. Such hopes were quickly dashed as he came up empty-handed.

Bakura cast his gaze upon the Pharaoh who was deep in thought, wrestling with his own notions to proceed. "Is that all you know about the Items...no one mentioned anything more to you before you became ruler?" Chewing his lip gently, he waited as patiently as possible for a reply.

Atem shook his head in denial before turning around and resting against the edge of the stone monument. "No, I'm afraid not. From an early age, I was trained in the ways of harnessing the power of the Shadow Realm. I was later given the Puzzle, which acted as a type of converter for that power. The items were just the items, treasures of my fathers rule that had helped lead Kehmet into peaceful times." His eyes grew distant; his memories playing before his eyes, similar to the movies that Yuugi had liked so much. "Father... once took me to a Shrine to our ancestors near the Valley of the Kings and..." His face wrinkled, trying to remember exactly what his father had done. Having been so young at the time, Atem hadn't been able to understand what transpired.

The previous resident of Kul Elna felt his blood pressure increase. His eyes grew dark at the mention of Atem's father. Gaze fixated on something out of focus, the tomb robber relived a few memories, but quickly pushed them to the back of his mind. Something unseen had been conjuring these memories to the surface of his conscious. While partnered with Ryou, he'd thought of his life in Egypt, but most were clouded and hard to recall. He staved off those painful events to listen to the other, biting his lip in annoyance; his mind was doing as it pleased, ignoring his wishes.

"That day father wanted me to see something. I was so young at that point that I didn't know why, I wasn't even 5 cycles old." The former king turned away from the albino robber, fully lost in his memories. "He was begging for forgiveness, at the time I didn't know why. It was so strange to me, but he was asking for me to be pardoned for his transgressions. Now that I think about it, I believe he knew what Aknadin had done to create the items."

Father. A strong male, a role model, a provider and protector. The word father for the one beside Bakura evoked a much different image than it did for the albino spirit. Father...Bakura thought. When he attempted to remember anything about his parent, the image became clouded. Biting on the dry flesh of his outer lip, he winced, almost drawing blood, but instead eliciting a twinge of pain. One minute everything was clear and the next it was utterly unreachable. "Dammit!" he bellowed, sending a fist into the stone wall nearest the pair, jarring the Pharaoh from his trip down Memory Lane. Realizing his outburst, the pale spirit nibbled the inside of his mouth, lowering his head a fraction. "Erm..." was all he could say.

Atem stared at Bakura, wine colored eyes flickering up and down his form to check in case of injury. Quickly he shifted away from the large stone, making his way over to the former thief. Tentatively he reached towards the albino spirit, touching his shoulder briefly. "You all right?" He asked, voice deep yet authoritative.

Bakura wordlessly retaliated at the contact, pushing the hand away with the back of his own. Their eyes didn't make contact as the two were left to their own thoughts, Bakura muddling over his mental block and the Pharaoh's proximity. For a moment, the murky barrier lifted and he could see into his memories. But when his partner drew near, Bakura found himself in a defensive position, and the hazy veil descended on his mind's eyes.

What was going on? In all his days, Bakura never once incurred such problems. Even while possessed by Zorc, he has been able to retreat into his own mind, completely separate and untouched by the host of his soul. Now, there was a veritable curtain, dancing back and forth against the entrance to his mental hall of memories. Whenever this force willed it, his memories would come flowing into his consciousness, painfully; the next moment they were out of reach. Was this a curse? A new punishment? Was it atonement for his sins?

He stood, walking several paces away from the tri-colored spirit, hoping to clear his mind and travel through the mental hall. The block remained. Met with defeat, Bakura bit his lip, and cursed.

Brows creased with evident worry. Atem didn't know what to do. When he'd given pep talks in the past, the solution was obvious. Now however, he didn't know what had to be done. There was no definite puzzle for the Game King to solve, no intricate prophecy, no direct course of action. Atem had fulfilled his duty, according to Malik and Shaadi, yet here he was with the tomb robber of his past, lost and confused. This time he didn't have Yuugi to question and that put him at a disadvantage. Musing to himself, the spirit once referred to as a Pharaoh laughed dejectedly; seemed he had relied too much on little Yuugi. Who relied on who, he wondered.

Bakura felt particularly irritable with the situation. Unable to rely on himself, he would be left with accepting a union with Atem. Feh, he thought. Weakness…alliances were crutches. He didn't want to be weak and lashed out with resent. "Why are we even here?!" Yelling, he launched a fist into the nearest wall. "For what reason are we in this purgatory?!"

"Ba-" Atem began, paused then shook. Yelling at the angered thief would do nothing to help their current situation. That had been one of the main lessons he'd learned during his time with Yuugi. Violence and a quick temper would only create more problems. Atem decided it best to leave the thief be, hopefully expel enough venom until he was content. But the wine colored eyes did not leave Bakura's form. He noted his partner's skittish actions, similar to a pet bird he'd cared for as a child. Atem backed up against a wall, softly resting his crown of multi-colored hair against the cool stone. The ceiling was still the same, dimly lit from the flickering candles and a dull golden yellow. "I do not know," he answered Bakura's bellowed question with a whisper.

"Dammit...what use are you then?!" The line he had released was only a small fraction of his wrath and he bit into his lip again, mindful not to draw blood. Bakura wanted nothing more than to release all his anger and frustration. Docile Atem allowed the outburst and it conjured an invisible force that restrained Bakura's rage. Snarling was a default mechanism. Keeping distance between them, Bakura sat against the closest wall, the one he had punched, and situated himself for a nap. "I'm tired of all of this...and don't you dare think about disturbing me."

Atem visibly flinched at the thief's harsh words. He bared silent witness to the thief who found a comfortable position and his breath slowed. Useless…that always seemed to be a trigger word for him. Whenever needed he was there for Yuugi, though his initial methods had been questionable. Violence used to be his primary weapon and a perfect offense.

At that time he hadn't known anything else from his darkness, other than winning was his absolute goal. No matter the costs, he would find a way to win. He laughed grimly. The world was so black and white to him then, just like it was to Bakura: victors and losers, strength and weakness, victors and losers, intellects and fools. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to understand his former adversary.

It had been eye-opening to learn that there was grey amid the dark and light. Yuugi was the one to make him realize his view was narrow. Utilizing intellect, Atem was able to outwit his opponents in lieu of violent acts. He had learned the error of his ways and matured, all thanks to his aibou.

It was a shame Bakura hadn't learned from Ryou. Though until now, he had been merged with Zorc. The Bakura that Atem knew now was quite different. Without Zorc, he displayed emotional outbursts and little control over himself. Snorting gently, Atem knew that he couldn't hold the tomb robber's actions against him; he was a proverbial newborn, learning to understand himself and how to proceed.

'…what use are you then?!' held a sting like a thorn in his side; for now, he would attempt to ignore it. Somehow, he felt that he was here to aid Bakura. The thought seemed to fit like a puzzle piece in this new game.

That notion didn't seem to help his confidence. Being deemed useless was almost too much to bear. He didn't know what to do. For the first time in a long while the pharaoh felt alone, just as he had when trapped in the Millennium Puzzle.

It didn't take long for the irritable thief to find himself in a dream. The scenery was certainly nostalgic, yet he wasn't sure how. Bakura found himself in a cramped dwelling filled with people who looked similar to him; kindred spirits that welcomed his younger form. Family, he recalled. This was family, his family. Unfortunately, he couldn't make out any of their faces.

Even in this unconscious state, there was no uncovering the past. Why was it? Why, even after death, was the King of Thieves, forced to live on, imprisoned in a new cell. The faces of family began to melt and morph into darker forms, that of wicked spirits that loomed around the juvenile Bakura. Kneeling, the child covered his face with palms, quaking in fear.

"What is it you want from me?!" He screamed in the conscious world, throwing his body forward into a ball, cradling his head in both hands. While his body moved as though conscious, it was obvious that the thief's mind was locked in his nightmare-turned dream.

Startled out of his judgmental thoughts, Atem watched the thrashing spirit for a moment, unsure of what to do. On one hand it was not wise to touch someone who was having such a violent nightmare, as it could provoke an attack and the rescuer could be injured. Quietly, as not to make sounds that could be added to the dream he inched forward so that he was about 10 paces away from Bakura. "Wake up!" He commanded softly, so not to harshly rouse the other. "It's only a dream. Bakura!"

Unable to directly respond, Bakura gripped at his skull, hoping to be freed from the hell within.

The former pharaoh frowned; calling out to Bakura wasn't helping. He supposed that if this did result in him getting smashed in the face, that it wouldn't hurt for too long, he was a spirit after all. With a few short steps he reached the balled up spirit, crouching down to grasp his shoulders. "Bakura!" He called again, lightly shaking the other in hopes of waking him.

The sudden contact felt like sharp needles to Bakura but he was too scared to lash out. Instead he balled tighter, paralyzed by fear.

Swiftly the former king removed his hands from the sleeping spirit's shoulders. Distressed he looked about the room, hoping to find something to ease the nightmare that caused fear to radiate off the snarky thief. Finding nothing his attention returned to what was before him. Thinking quickly he sat down next to Bakura and touched both hands, massaging in soft motions. He began to hum an Egyptian hymn Mana would sing for him when he was young, hoping to calm the other spirit.

The sensation of pain began to subside as a melody reached the previous thief's ears. Darkened spirits within the nightmare began to slowly dissipate. Hands lowered from the numbed skull and Bakura felt himself wake. Befuddled, dark eyes fluttered open, faced with the spirit of the Millennium Puzzle. Despite sleeping, he felt more drained than before, hardly able to speak. Eyebrows narrowed in confusion and he sighed, staring at the calm, concerned spirit before him.

Worried wine colored eyes looked down at Bakura. "Hey." He said softly, a rueful smile pulling at his features. He moved to sit down next to the other, laying the thief's head in his lap to act as a makeshift pillow. He'd stopped massaging, although right hand still carded through the untamed white locks of hair.

Bakura released a muffled snort of derision, finding their positions unacceptable. Despite this, he didn't remove himself from the situation and relished in the comfort like a lame dog. Ever the stubborn creature, he averted the concerned pools of wine and acted as though he was unaware of his surroundings.

He snorted softly at the grumpy growl he heard. Realizing the dismissal for what it was: a child acting out stubbornly. Closing his eyes, Atem rested against the wall. His hand, though, continued to move through Bakura's hair at a leisurely pace. A small smile graced his lips; he didn't feel so alone anymore.


End file.
